


A Place to Call Home

by Bloodysyren



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:31:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodysyren/pseuds/Bloodysyren
Summary: Connor, SPARTAN 113 is finally boots on deck and has to bunk up with a young man who is more than just a friendly face.
Relationships: original character x original spartan
Kudos: 1





	A Place to Call Home

As Spartan Connor-113 stepped onto the deck of the destroyer, he could feel all eyes on him. He knew that the Spartans weren't as uncommon a sight as they were in the past, but he still felt like a unicorn. That is to say, completely out of place. He could feel his face redden beneath the golden visor, glad for that small bit of privacy at least. People's heads turned as he passed. He sensed numberless eyes on his back as he made his way to the bridge where the Captain was waiting for him.

"Glad you made it safe, Lieutenant." Shaking Connor's hand the Captain turned and strode towards the view screens. The debrief lasted all of five minutes. Long trip to a lone planet. Kill anything and everything. Long trip home. Standard operating procedure for the Covenant war. For the moment, all Connor-113 wanted to do was sit down and eat a nice hot meal. But the Captain pressed a comm button and in strode a tall, muscled kid who looked to be about 22.

"113, this is Private Jacob Gunn. We're full up on this rig, so you'll be his roommate for the duration of the trip..." Connor didn't hear the rest of the Captain's monologue because he was too busy noticing the furtive glances the Private kept throwing his way like the young man had a tick.

"...So unfortunately, you two are going to have to figure out who gets the top bunk until we're planet-side." Connor saw the young man blush beneath his cap and smiled secretly.

"Yes, sir."

"Private Gunn, you will escort the Lieutenant to the weapons bay to deal with his...luggage."

"Sir." The Private gave a crisp salute.

113 followed Jacob through the bridge doors and down to the weapons area. Connor could rattle off the gun stats in his head without even looking, imagining the way they would feel in his hands. His stomach flipped as he glanced down at the young Private, practically jogging beside him to keep up with his casual stride. A rising blush burned at the Spartan's face, imagining the weight of those sinewy arms beneath his clenching fingers. He closed his eyes as the mechanics strapped him into the machine that whirred and buzzed, unclasping his armor like taking the wheels off of a car. His helmet was the last thing to go. Thankfully, the mechanics let him remove it on his own.

Connor-113 slid his thumbs into the space between the helmet and his skin. He had just noticed that the room had gone completely silent. He was the unicorn again. Before he pulled his mask off to give the big reveal to his eager audience, he glanced up and saw Private Gunn standing directly in front of him. The young man licked his lips in anticipation and Connor felt a spike of something hot and cold at the same time rocket through him.

He expected to hear gasps or murmurs, but the weapons bay was dead silent as he pried off his helmet and handed it to a nearby technician who seemed too occupied with cleaning and repair to notice the platinum blonde, ice-blue-eyed Adonis towering a full head higher than everyone else in the room. But Jacob Gunn noticed. Connor walked to a private room to change into casual BDU's and they made their way out of the weapons bay. Walking down to the barracks, they passed every door until they reached the back of the ship. Jacob keyed open his door and Connor stepped into a sparse small room with the barest essentials.

"It's not much, but it's home." Private Gunn blurted out, making sure not to look at the Lieutenant. Connor knew that he outranked Private Gunn ten times over, but for once it was nice to not be treated as a faceless murder-hungry celebrity. All of Jacob's stuff was in perfect order; his bed was straight and clean, his uniforms were immaculate, hung neatly. His effects were only the essentials, except for a single snapshot of him and his parents tucked in one corner of the lower bed.

"I guess you'll want the bottom bunk. Unless you want to explain to the Captain why he's short one soldier tomorrow morning in the mess." Jacob gave a wry laugh. Connor smiled. He wasn't used to having leisure time. The rest of the day was filled with sit-rep meetings and tours. By the middle of the afternoon, he knew the ship like a second suit. He was given a keycard for Jacob's room and after dinner in the mess hall, he returned to the tiny coffin-like room and flopped down on the bed. It creaked knowingly under his weight but everything stayed put. That was a good sign, at least he wouldn't be shouldering any repair bills his first night.

Jacob stepped into the room, a towel draped around his waist. He ran a hand through his damp hair and it flattened against his skull like melted dark chocolate. Connor's gaze immediately flickered from scar to scar, and this time, he didn't have the luxury of his visor to hide his roving eyes.

"Not all of them are from this war. Most of them are from before I enlisted." The Private said matter-of-factly,

"This was from a procedure I had to have when I was 12." Jacob said, pointing to a long jagged scar that cut across the right side of his ribcage,

"And I imagine that you have so many that you've lost count, at least, from everything I've heard about Spartans." Gunn said with a smile. Connor was jolted back to his broken memories of pain and light and survival. The injections, the augmentation, the training. It was all so close and yet half-formed, like a jigsaw puzzle that was too difficult to finish.

"You'd be surprised." He mumbled as Jacob slid on a pair of sleep pants and clambered up onto the top bunk, his hair still damp. As the light switched off and the air in the small room shifted from where the Private had bolted to his bed, Connor-113 could swear he caught a whiff of chocolate.

The next few days passed without incident. At one point they ended up in the gym with a few other Marines who were having a bench contest. Spartan-113 and Private Gunn stayed back, watching. The guys were cocksure and haughty, egging each other on. So far, from what Connor had observed, the most anyone could strong-arm was 330. The record held steady by a burly commander built like a tank. But there was still no one on the destroyer who could match the Spartan for height and girth. Jacob leaned over to whisper,

"I've heard that Spartans can press a lot of weight. My max is about 220. Do I even want to know what your numbers are, or will I feel like a teenage girl after you tell me?" The Private eyed Connor's thick corded arms. Spartan 113 smirked, those blue eyes shining, still gazing at the group of Marines at the bench. He flexed slightly and could almost see the Private's mouth watering,

"How much do you think....?"

"I'd say...550?"

"Too low. Do you want me to show you?" Connor stepped up to the group of Marines during a lull in the conversation,

"Hey guys, do you mind if I use the bench for a moment? I don't want to interfere with your contest. I just want to prove something to the Private over there." Spartan-113 gestured to Private Gunn, still standing off to one side of the mat. He spoke up, as if reassuring himself,

"He was going to show me how much he can bench." The Marine couldn't keep the excited glimmer from his eyes. Some of the Marines looked slightly annoyed while others wore expressions of curiosity, but they all widened their circle to give the Spartan some space. He reclined on the bench and it held his weight, much to his surprise. He stared up at the bar, already slung with thick rounds of steel.

"How much weight is on the bar now? Or should I guess?" Connor spoke as casually as he could as he reached up with both hands and lifted the bar from its cradle.

"I'd say, 350?" A few of the Marines nodded and he replaced it. They all stood around, knowing that he outranked all of them. After a few moments of silence he realized that they were waiting for his orders.

"Add another 200, please." They slid the weights on and he lifted it off the pegs effortlessly again. He did a few reps and it clanged back into the cradle.

"That's 550. Does anyone feel like making a bet?" He was trying to at least make it fun for all of them, rather than just having them see that he could push their best combined. The Spartan glanced over to a tanned and built Marine with dark cropped hair,

"What's your bet, soldier?" The young man looked startled for a moment and then blurted out, "100 bucks for 650, tops." Another piped up and said, "I've got 200 for 6 flat." All around, no one was pushing 800 for fear that they would lose by going too high. But then from the back, catching Connor's eye, Jacob spoke up,

"I say, winner takes all at 850." They all gaped at him and he gave a little shrug, smiling at the Lieutenant. After all of the bets were made, another 50 was added from the rack, then another hundred, and so on and so on until the bar weighed in at 850 pounds. As the Spartan pushed it from the cradle, he barely seemed to struggle, and after a few quick reps said,

"Add another 150." All of the Marines stood there in disbelief, but a pair of them grabbed the remaining weights and slung them on the ends of the bar, now weighing in at half a ton. Everyone watched in silence as Connor pushed the bar from the cradle and did a slightly shaky rep. It looked like the rest of them doing 50 over their limit. Then as the Lieutenant put the bar back on the pegs his voice broke the stunned silence,

"Does anyone want to go double or nothing? Now that the pot's up to the weight of this bar." He fingered the bar with one hand and one of the Marines looked like he was about to pass out. Connor found the center and lifted the bar from the pegs again, doing one extremely clean smooth rep before putting the bar back in its place. He sat up and wiped his hands on a proffered towel from Jacob, all of the other Marines were speechless. As they strode from the gym, Connor-113 called behind him,

"I'll expect the funds in my account before the end of this tour, gentlemen."

When the pair returned to the room it was a relief to be able to lie down at the end of the day. After his shower, Jacob switched off the light but Connor couldn't fall asleep. He stared into the darkness, listening to the ship's purring sounds. Light clanking and creaking, doors whispering closed. It was just like being back in the barracks as a kid.

Spartan 113 didn't know how long he had been awake. But something else whispered in the dark. He could hear faint noises above him. Someone who was deliberately trying to be quiet but unable to completely contain their voice. Connor closed his eyes against the dark and breathed in. He could smell him in the still air of the room. He could smell Private Gunn's sweat and skin and the musky odor between his probably splayed legs. Connor listened for a while and counted the minutes, an imperceptible smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

He shifted as silently as he could and stood up. His head and shoulders were level with the top bunk. Private Gunn had his eyes closed in concentration, and what looked like frustration. Connor-113 spoke in a hushed voice, which came out as a husky whisper in the dark,

"Do you need some help, Private?" Connor saw the Marine nearly jump out of his skin. He silently apologized and stared through the blackness, seeing Jacob's eyes go wide as he threw a blanket over his hips.

"I...Uhh....."

"It's alright if you turn down my offer. But you have been at it for a while. I just thought you might want to sleep sooner rather than later."

"How long have you been awake?" A fierce blush stained Private Gunn's cheeks.

"Since you shut off the light. I have a hard time getting to sleep sometimes."

"I...Why...Because of your memories?" The air shifted and Connor nodded in the dark,

"Yeah. Everyone I know is...." He was almost going to blurt out 'dead' but thought better of it at the last second, not wanting to ruin the mood,

"...Taken." There was a silence between them for a moment.

"I know how that is. Being the odd one out everywhere. I have had so many friends, and so few lovers." Connor saw Jacob's pale hand stretch towards his blindly in the dark. He didn't pull away as those warm fingers found his over the edge of the bunk. He could smell Gunn's sweat, heavier now; cloying in the small room.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Jacob's voice sounded small in the dark.

"You don't have to call me 'sir', Private. What's on your mind?" Connor's voice was steady.

"May I see your scars? I've always had a fascination with them. Not yours in particular, or even the Spartans, just everyone's. I want to know where they came from, what you had to survive to earn a permanent badge of bravery like that." Connor felt the smile creep further along his mouth.

"Come down and I'll show you." Connor pulled away from the bunk and switched the light on. He saw Jacob struggling between the idea of putting on clothing or just sating his curiosity about the Spartan's old wounds.

"A few minutes ago I was offering to help you get off. I don't think I'll care now that you're not wearing anything." Jacob smirked and hopped down from the bunk, standing in front of Spartan-113 like a little boy looking admiringly up at a statue. Connor could feel a warm burning in the pit of his stomach as he stripped off his tighter than usual BDU shirt.

"Shall we start with the front, then?" Connor tossed down his shirt and saw Jacob hesitantly reach for the huge jagged scar running down his sternum.

"The augmentation didn't exactly leave us looking like models." He felt those warm fingers trace the line between his pecs and couldn't remember the last time when someone had touched him who wasn't a doctor or a technician. The touch was so gentle, curious and full of longing. Jacob's fingers were bolder now. He let his hands trace the lines along Connor's ribs and waist, across those wide strong shoulders. The scars were everywhere. Mostly little ones. But every scar told a story. Connor turned and faced the wall as those blind fingers searched out the sensitive places all along his back, making him shudder.

"Do any of them still hurt?" Jacob's voice was soft in the silence.

"Not anymore. Just sensitive." Connor-113 could feel something pooling in the pit of his stomach and felt himself twitch. It was getting harder to deny his attraction to the young Private. The fingers stopped their exploration and Connor turned back, facing the Marine.

"Do you want to see the rest?" Private Gunn stepped up to Connor and lifted his head up. Those moss-green eyes slipped closed and Connor felt the irresistible urge to kiss him. Jacob's palms started to sweat; pressed against the Lieutenant's broad chest. He felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and pull him closer, their lips brushing together. Jacob gasped and opened his mouth wider; the wet pressure of Connor's tongue pushed past his lips and his whole body shuddered.

Spartan-113 could feel the Private's pulse hammering through the freshly-shaven skin of his throat. Jacob clung to Connor, his heart beating faster as the Lieutenant's mouth moved down and pressed against his shoulder. The Marine flinched as Connor's other hand slid between his legs, pressing tight against his body. Those fingers completely covered everything, making him moan,

"What do you want to do?" Jacob panted, feeling himself harden against the Spartan's palm. Connor smiled against the smooth skin of the Private's shoulder.

"You know your limits. I don't. I think that's completely up to you." That warm damp mouth pulled an unintelligible sound from Jacob's throat and he could only nod helplessly, fingers slipping down that sculpted chest and those rock-hard abs to curl against Connor's black sleep pants. Jacob knelt on the cold metal floor of the room slowly pulling the Spartan's pants with him, finally feeling bold enough to speak,

"I want to see if that augmentation made _everything_ bigger, not just those rippling muscles of yours, Lieutenant." Connor felt the Marine's warm hands on his thighs and he relaxed against the wall, stiffening in that sure grip. Jacob could barely wrap his fingers all of the way around the Spartan's dripping erection. He saw more little scars crisscrossing over Connor's thighs and he leaned in to kiss that pale marred flesh as his hand stroked lazily between the Lieutenant's legs. A heady sigh broke the silence and Connor looked down to see Jacob wrapping his lips around the head of his cock, his other hand stroking himself lazily, the precome leaking into a pool between the Private's spread knees.

"Do you like what you see?" Connor said with a smirk that turned into a sigh as Jacob moaned his approval around the heavy thickness on his tongue. Due to the augmentation, Spartan-113 had been transformed from a tall, lanky 14 year old into an emotionally suppressed super-human killing machine. But Private Gunn was stirring up emotions in the Spartan that were aching to get out. Between Jacob's smooth warm lips, he was losing it fast. The young Private was a professional.

Connor buried a hand in that short brown hair, pulling Jacob's mouth from between his legs, fearing that he would come too soon. The Private stayed kneeling, his cock bobbing expectantly between his legs. Connor saw a wet line of excitement dripping from Jacob's mouth. He swiped his thumb across it and licked his lips, looking starved,

"Sorry, sir. I haven't had any in a while. I got a little carried away." The Marine smirked up at Spartan-113. Connor helped Jacob to his feet, turning the tables suddenly as he pressed Private Gunn's back up against the wall of the tiny room.

"I told you not to call me 'sir'. At least not in private." Jacob felt those long powerful fingers stroking between his legs and he felt his whole body flinch,

"You said only I knew my limits, right, Lieutenant?" Private Gunn said, smirking, as Connor sank to his knees. He could feel the Spartan's hot breath on his thigh in response. Those warm lips kissing and nipping along the curve of his hip,

"Well, how many guys can say that they've gotten it from a Spartan? You don't know my limits, but I do. And let me just say that that shower earlier got me extra clean." Connor ran his fingers through the spilled prejack that had leaked onto the floor from Jacob pleasuring himself as he sucked the Spartan off. Jacob gasped as a hand wandered up his hip to stroke him in a tight fist as the Lieutenant spread those pale cheeks with his fingers and dragged the slick digits against the Private's entrance.

Connor's mouth was watering. He wanted to push the Marine to the edge. The Spartan could feel his own neglected erection throbbing as he buried two fingers in Jacob's tight hole. The Marine bucked his hips and whimpered, feeling those damp lips slide along his cock. Jacob bit his lip and buried his hands into that halo of blonde hair.

The Spartan wondered how many other guys had seen the sight that was taking his breath away right now. Those fingers slid further in and curled temptingly, making the Private moan like a beast. The Spartan added another slicked up finger and Jacob felt his knees weakening. He was panting and writhing as Connor's teeth dragged teasingly light along his shaft. The Spartan was milking him for all he was worth. Those slick fingers twisted inside Jacob's ass and Connor's mouth was becoming harder to resist, lapping at the head and sliding down until his face was buried between the Private's legs. The Spartan's mouth tightened on Jacob's cock and with a cry he spilled over that velvety smooth tongue. Connor caught every drop and slowly released the Marine's softening cock, turning the Private to face the wall and dribbled Jacob's release between his cheeks. It dripped warm and sticky down his thighs, making him shudder in the afterglow of his orgasm.

"Are you sure you really want to 'get some' from a Spartan?" Connor couldn't resist rubbing his dripping erection along the slick cleft of the Private's ass. Jacob's muscles clenched in anticipation and he could feel himself throb back to full hardness. Jacob didn't say anything. He just clenched his fingers against the metal wall and pushed his hips back wantonly. Connor took that as a 'yes' and slowly pressed his thick cock into the Private's tight hole.

"Oh, God..." Jacob bit his lip and pushed his hips back against the Spartan's. That rigid piece of flesh was sliding into him so slowly, eased by his own damning release, and his brain was in overdrive. He was imagining what Connor must look like; his whole body in complete control as he shoved himself into Jacob's body. The Private wanted to thrust his hips back and feel the Spartan to the hilt. His head felt fuzzy like he was drunk and the only words he could form with any coherence were,

"Connor...More..." The Spartan gripped a handful of that chocolate brown hair and curled his fingers around the Private's dripping erection as he thrust in quickly and greedily, hearing the man in front of him moan in torturous pleasure. The Spartan pulled out and shoved in again, as deep as he could go, feeling Jacob's whole body shudder overwhelmingly. The boy felt heavenly, those walls of muscle clamping around him, slick and delicious. Connor couldn't help but tease,

"So, how does 'getting it' from a Spartan feel?" Through panting gasps, the Private replied,

"Unnf....It feels like I'm melting in your hands, like chocolate." Jacob gave a breathy chuckle. Spartan-113 nibbled on Jacob's shoulder and pushed in deep again, letting his hands roam up that flat stomach to his chest, squeezing appreciatively. Jacob pushed his hips back, fucking himself on that hard cock as Connor pinched his nipples. He leaned into those teasing hands and kept bucking his hips. The pleasure was overwhelming and Connor could tell with every labored breath that Jacob was close.

The Private's hands slipped along the wall as Connor snapped his hips forward with a groan, feeling those strong muscles clench around him. The soldier's skin was burning hot beneath his fingers and he felt himself release deep into the young Private as Jacob's voice echoed off of those unforgiving metal walls, his own release spurting down between his legs. Connor saw the soldier slump forward, completely spent. He pulled out gently and quickly grabbed a towel as Jacob slid languidly to the floor.

"So, how was your first time with a Spartan?" Connor half-whispered as Jacob wiped himself and the wall off.

"Well, I'm still in one piece, so...." Jacob laughed wryly and got to his feet, standing naked before Spartan-113. Glancing down, Connor saw Jacob's fists trembling and he looked into the Marine's face. It was wet with tears.

"I...I'm sorry. I just can't bear to lose anyone else."

"Oh, come on, don't turn the waterworks on me now. I'm standing right here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but a week from now, you might not be. And I just don't know what I'd do." Connor took the Marine into the strong circle of his arms,

"You'll go on living, just like we all do. Death's a part of life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but..." Spartan-113 kissed Jacob's forehead tenderly and hugged him tightly.

"We've all lost someone. And the best thing we can do is to always keep them in our memories. That's how they live on even when we lose them. You have to be strong for all of those you've lost. If you live your life the best way you know how, then no one is really gone forever. They live on....in here." Connor placed his hand over Jacob's heaving chest, cradling him in his arms. The soldier wiped at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"Did they teach you that in training?" Jacob's voice cracked, trying to sound a little more cheerful.

"No. I learned all of that by just living the one life I've got. And so far, it's been one hell of an adventure." Connor kissed the soldier lovingly, relishing such a tender moment in the midst of such chaos. He was glad to finally have a place to call home.


End file.
